


Maybe We're Both Weird

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Incest, M/M, RP, Weecest, Weechesters, Wincest - Freeform, wee!cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a series of sleepless nights in the Impala, Dean catches his brother sleepwalking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe We're Both Weird

They’d been on the road for five days and, though they’d had plenty of time to sleep, it all took place in the car, and it was all stiff limbs and uncomfortable positions. By the third, Dean had taken to sleeping upright, with Sam’s head resting in his lap.

He knew something had happened with their dad, he was upset, clipped, and miserable as he drove, and Dean was sure it had something to do with a really bad falling out. He tried his best to keep Sam calm and comfortable, but it was getting to all of them.

He nearly had it out with his father on the fifth day, joining John in the convenient store and telling him that they needed rest, that whatever was chasing his father needed to wait. He could take it out on himself, but Dean was fucking sick and tired of him taking it out on Sam. He’d convinced John to let them stay at a motel while he did whatever the fuck he did to take care of his issues.

 

Dean had let his brother sleep, made sure Sam didn’t know they’d been arguing and, when John pulled into the motel parking lot, Dean told him that he had money and he didn’t need anything from his father. He took a moment though, grabbing his and his brother’s duffels and a bag of salt, throwing them over his shoulder as he lifted the sleeping boy from the backseat and carried him up to the front lobby.

He paid in for a week and walked carefully to their room, unlocking the door with the hand under Sam’s legs before letting them in. Still, he’d managed to keep his brother comfortable enough to snore on.

He locked the door and moved to the bed, setting Sam down and taking off his shoes, his jacket, shirt and pants, pulling the motel blanket over his body before Dean went around the room, salting the door and windows.

* * *

It seemed like all they did was drive, anymore, and it was starting to take it’s toll on Sam. For someone so young he felt about fifty years old with how stiff and achy he was from being pent up in the back seat of the Impala, constantly tired from the horrid quality of sleep.

The only silver lining was Dean, even in his mostly unconscious state he could hear things, feel the tension between Dean and John. Sam was thankful though, that he had someone like Dean to look out for him, considering their own father didn’t.

When Sam actually came to, he was laying in a motel bed. He tilted his head up off the pillow as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, limbs at ease from where he could actually stretch out. Sam rubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands and mumbled, voice sleep ridden and scratchy, “Dean?”

Dean looked up from his spot at the table, cleaning his guns in the dark, using the light filtering through the blinds from a street lamp just outside to do so. He got up, walking to his brother and sitting down just beside his legs, “Hey, Sammy,” He reached out, touching the small boy’s knee from just over the covers, “You feel any better?”

John had called just an hour before, telling Dean that he wouldn’t be back, not for a while, and it’d pissed him off more than anything, but he’d kept quiet about it, and answered stiffly that he understood - though he didn’t.

Sam shook his head ‘no’ and licked his lips, eyes still mostly closed as he reached out numbly and tugged at Dean’s shirt, “Don’t sleep good without you, De.”

The younger Winchester fell back down against his pillow and patted the space on the mattress next to him, “Please?” He asked softly, squinting up at his brother hopefully.

“Alright,” Dean smiled and stood, taking off his jacket and setting it back on his chair before kicking off his boots and socks, followed quickly by his jeans.

Some times his brother broke his goddamn heart with things like that. It was probably best he wasn’t aware of it though, or he’d realize just how easy it was to get away with things. The kid didn’t even fucking try, and he caused all kinds of weird twists, god fucking knows what he could do if he did.

The older Winchester slipped the knife under his pillow and laid down by his brother, climbing under the covers. He was so fucking sore that it actually  **hurt**  to lay down, he could feel everything inside of him groaning as he took up his brother by his stomach and scooped him in, back pressed firmly to Dean’s chest as he set his leg over Sam’s, “That better, baby boy?”

Sam nodded lazily against the pillow and squirmed back against his brother a little more, almost like a cat striving for affection. The younger Winchester rested his hand over Dean’s on his stomach, lacing their fingers innocently as he breathed out, sleepily, “Mm, makes me feel safe, you always do.”

Dean felt his chest tighten at the words and he smiled to himself, pressing his lips to the back of Sam’s head. That was the comfort he’d been hoping to provide, to give his brother a feeling of security, the best he could, and his brother felt rightfully so. Dean would fucking murder anyone or anything to keep  **his**  Sammy safe. He would turn the fucking world, if he had to.

“You get some sleep now, Sammy,” Dean whispered, squeezing his brother’s fingers slightly within his before moving their arms so he could wrap both of his around Sam completely.

The little boy just mumbled incoherently, eyes closed as his breathing evened out and slowed, slumber pulling him back under now that he felt comfortable in his brother’s embrace. Having Dean hold him close was comforting on a level he couldn’t really understand, it put his entire body at ease and the older Winchester was the only one capable of doing so.

After a while Sam began snoring lightly, an indiscernible amount of time had passed before he moved, sitting upright on the bed and slinging his legs over the side as he brought his brother’s knuckles up to his mouth to kiss them in his low state of consciousness, unaware exactly, of what he was doing.

Dean had probably never actually  _slept_  since their mother had passed away, it was always hanging within this state of sleep and slumber, somewhat aware of his surroundings, keeping there enough to make sure his brother was safe.

He’d woken completely the moment Sam moved, not bothering to open his eyes in case his brother was just going to pee or something. However, he felt the brush of petal soft lips against his hand and cracked an eyelid in surprise, watching Sam in confusion as the younger Winchester kissed him.

Dean knew his heart rate skyrocketed at once, but it was probably something completely fucking innocent on Sam’s part, the kid was likely fucking delirious from lack of sleep.

Sam took Dean’s hand and brushed it against his cheek, eyes closed as he mumbled unintelligibly into his brother’s palm, “So pretty, hands, these hands are safe.”

The older Winchester opened both of his eyes now, swallowing and staring at his brother. He wasn’t sure if it was… Sleep-talking? Or sleep _walking_ … But he seriously had no control over the twists in his stomach, the stings in his fingers as his thumb brushed his brother’s skin.

The younger Winchester kissed the middle of Dean’s palm before practically dropping it onto the bed so that he could stand up, body almost swaying with each sluggish step, eyes open but void of depth. Sam walked over to the stand in the room, head tilted down in such a way that made it look like he was intent on something.

He scratched the back of his neck and continued to mutter nonsensical things, “Dad doesn’t care, bright eyes does.”

Dean sat up slowly, the blanket pooling around his waist as he watched his brother still, almost nervously now. Sam was fucking sleepwalking, this was a first. Goddamn, he must be fucking tired. He felt the anger bubbling under his skin, and he was seriously going to give their dad a talking to, no more five day fucking drives, it was stupid. And he wasn’t really comfortable with what it was doing to his brother.

Sam moved a little but bumped into the table, banging his hip off of it painfully, hand clutching it as he moved over to the little kitchenette, looking idly through drawers, “Bright, almost sparkle, how’s it possible?”

Dean got up and followed after his brother, reaching out to touch Sam’s shoulder as he moved up behind him, “Hey, Sammy,” He said, somewhat unsure and nervous, lifting his hand to comb his fingers through the back of his brother’s hair, “Kiddo?”

“Sammy,” Sam repeated, leaning back into that familiar touch but wincing from the pain in his hip as he pulled a spoon from the drawer. He moved over to the miniature fridge and put the spoon inside, “His Sammy.”

 _His Sammy?_  Dean’s brows narrowed, because a good percent of the time, that’s how he thought of his brother;  _his_. He moved to Sam again, taking his shoulders this time and looking into the younger Winchester’s eyes, “Hey, snap out of it, Sam,” He said, unable to hide the concern from his face.

Sam stood there for a minute or two and stared at the face in front of him, the striking, familiar features causing words to filter into his mind; like _safe, loved_ , and  _brother_. The younger boy blinked almost rapidly, more conscious now as he looked around, confused as to why he wasn’t in bed. Sam’s brows furrowed as he looked at Dean, “I don’t remember getting out of bed.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’, you were sleepwalkin’,” Dean touched his brother’s hair carefully, smiling, though he was still fucking nervous as hell, “You were out of your fuckin’ mind, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Sam said softly, shrugging slightly as he moved to lean into Dean, sighing contently as he pressed his cheek to his brother’s chest, “Just feel like I haven’t slept in about a year, and my hip,” He leaned back a little and looked down, the skin was already starting to bruise, “How’d I do that?”

Dean touched the heated, swelling flesh of his brother’s waist, “You kinda turned into the table, even that didn’t wake you up. That’s gonna smart later, you want me to put somethin’ on it?” He asked, he wasn’t sure if he should let Sam go back to sleep afterwards, or wake them both up, he wasn’t even really sure what time it was.

Sam’s lips parted when Dean touched his hip, a soft little gust of breath escaping him as he looked into his brother’s bright, almost jade looking eyes, “Nah, I’ll be okay,” He covered Dean’s hand with his own and made the older man press into the aching flesh, “Besides, it’ll leave an awesome looking bruise.”

“Did you wanna stay up or… Go back to sleep? I dunno what time it is,” Dean looked into his brother’s eyes almost guiltily, his palm settling against his brother’s skin completely now and his heart rate picked up once more, especially as he felt the heat tingling against the back of his hand, from his brother’s, as Sam touched him, “Dad won’t be back any time soon, you can-” He licked his lips, “You can sleep more, f’you want.”

“I should probably stay up, if this is anything to go by,” Sam brushed his thumb against Dean’s hand, gesturing to the bruise, “I don’t really know if I can, though,” He slid his hand from Dean’s up to his brother’s forearm, stepping closer as he yawned, “I hate feeling like this. I should have tons of energy like any other kid my age.” He wasn’t like every other kid his age, though, and that was just a bitter truth.

Dean reached out with his free hand, combing Sam’s bangs from his forehead, “Dad wasn’t bein’ fair, you shouldn’t’ve been made to sleep in the car for such a long time. I’m not surprised it had side effects,” He felt bad, he wanted to make it better but he wasn’t really sure how, “It won’t happen again,” He assured his brother. And it fucking wouldn’t, he’d make sure of that.

John wasn’t going to pull this shit on them again. Dean hated seeing his brother look so tired and miserable, if only there was-“Uh, hey, we can go get some coffee, there’s a small place just a short walk away, I can get you somethin’ there, that’ll wake you up.”

Sam visibly perked up, grinning hopefully at Dean as he bounced on the balls of his feet, hands moving up to clasp his brother’s shoulders, “Can we, De? You’d let me have coffee behind Dad’s back?” The younger Winchester had seen both John and Dean drink coffee countless times, and no matter how much he ached for just a sip, to see what it tasted like, John never let him.

“Yeah, I think you’re old enough now for your first cup,” Dean said, smiling and ruffling his brother’s hair as he tried to ignore Sam’s proximity. After everything that’d happened from his brother’s sleepwalking, he was just slightly unsure of himself around Sam, “You think you can walk with me or do you wanna stay back here?”

“I wanna go,” Sam said, almost at once before yawning again, causing his eyes to water a little bit, “You should totally give me a piggy back ride, though.” The younger Winchester grinned hopefully before leaning up on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Dean’s neck to hug him, “Pretty please?”

Dean nodded, staring into his brother’s eyes before he lifted Sam into his arms, walking them back into the bedroom area of the motel, depositing his brother onto the mattress as he brought over their duffels and pulled Sam out a change of clothes, “Get dressed,” He said before pilfering through his own.

Sam got dressed in record speed, almost tripping as he put his shoes on, eyes occasionally flashing to Dean to see if he was ready. The younger Winchester moved to the door and used all the restraint he could to keep from bouncing, if he was already this excited over coffee, Dean was liable not to let him have any.

Dean’s body was still a bit stiff from sleeping upright in the car, joints creaking like he was some old miserable bat that watched outside their window and collected names of people loitering. He tucked his Taurus in the back of his pants and joined his brother at the door, locking it behind them and crouching down for his brother, “Climb on up, baby boy.”

Sam all but hopped up on Dean’s back, his thin arms circling his brother’s neck as he smashed their faces together, chuckling, “I ever tell you your the best big brother ever?” The younger Winchester tilted his head a little to the side, to get a good look at Dean’s face before kissing his cheek, “I mean it, you’re great, De.”

“If you say so,” Dean laughed, the spot where his brother’d kissed him practically scorching as he began walking. It was only a few miles up the road, but carrying Sam on his back definitely made it a work out.

He kept it to himself, regulating his breathing and holding tight to his brother’s legs as he walked. It was early in the morning, really early - six - and still very, very dark, but he knew coffee places started early -  _for obvious reasons_.

Sam wiggled a little bit and hopped down, moving to lean into his brother’s side instead, pulling the older Winchester’s arm across his shoulder, “Not as little as I used to be, huh?” The younger Winchester wrapped his arm around Dean’s back, squeezing his brother’s hip as they walked together.

Dean turned and kissed the top of Sam’s head, “Yeah, not so much,” He shrugged, “You keep it up an’ you’ll be taller’n me. That’d be pretty fuckin’ weird.”

They reached the miserable little coffee shop which was likely to be family run, and he was relieved to see that it was currently active, cars parked as if they were clutching onto the building. He stretched out his arm, pushing the door open and walking through with his brother.

The place was low lit, probably for the adjusting morning crew, but there were a few committed bean addicts sipping from their mugs and curling up to their selves as they read the morning paper.

“I know I will,” Sam bumped Dean with his good hip, grinning as they walked up to the counter, “I’m gonna be bigger and taller, you’ll have to look up to me someday.”

The lady in charge came to the register and smiled at them, “What can I get you boys this morning?”

“Two black, nothin’ special, regular size, ma’am,” Dean said, pulling out his wallet, “You got like an uh… Like a stand for creamer an’ sugar?” He normally took his as bitter as he could, but Sam was likely to want something softer, sweeter, it was probably best to prepare for that.

“Sure do, sweetie,” She leaned over the counter a bit and pointed a ways down the counter, “It’s right down there, your total’s gonna be four dollars and thirty six cents.”

Sam was anxious and so excited, biting on his bottom lip as he snagged a five dollar bill from his brother’s wallet and handed it to the lady before Dean even had a chance.

Dean chuckled and closed back up his wallet, pocketing it and smiling to the woman, “Thank you, ma’am,” He turned to his brother, “When you get it, don’t just chug it black, you might not like it that way, okay? It’s pretty bitter, if it is, you just add the creamer an’ sugar, ‘til the taste is more of what you want.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean as the woman handed his brother the change before moving to fill their orders, “Can’t chug it, anyway, it’s probably scolding hot, De; I don’t have a death wish. And if it’s so bitter, why do people bother with it? Can’t give you  _that_  much energy.”

“Some people, like me,  **like**  how bitter it is,” Dean defended himself, smiling wider as his hand touched the back of Sam’s neck, “An’ you’d be surprised, the effects coffee has on your body.” His brother had no idea what he was in for, Dean remembered his own first cup, how he’d almost spat it all over dad’s face.

The woman came back and sat both cups on the counter and slid them towards Sam and Dean, smiling, “Thanks boys, you two have a good day.”

Sam grabbed his and nodded to the woman as he walked towards the creamer station, peeling back the perforated opening to smell the coffee, grinning as he brought it to his lips. The younger Winchester took a tentative sip and grimaced. It  **was**  bitter, entirely too bitter - Dean was right, as always.

Dean chuckled as he nodded to himself, sipping carefully at his own as he kept a few steps behind his brother. Sam had never liked bitter things, and Dean couldn’t think of one more than black coffee. He took a plastic spoon from the stand and a handful of creamer, a second of sugar before leading his brother to a little table in the corner, setting them down before Sam, “Try one or two packs at a time, but give it a bit to melt, otherwise you’ll put so much thinkin’ it’s fine, then it melts an’ it’s too much, trust me.”

Sam emptied two packets of sugar into his coffee and stirred it, kept stirring for about a minute before he brought the cup back up to his lips. It was still too bitter so he added two more packets and a little cap of creamer, glancing at Dean fondly while he waited for everything to mix in. Sam gave it a good stir and sipped again, grinning as he took a second, “Think I got it the way I want it.”

“Yeah everyone is pretty particular with their coffee,” Dean observed, finally able to sip his without hesitation at the heat, “Just one of those kinda thin’s, I guess.” He was probably going to regret giving Sam some, though, considering the kid was going to be bouncing off the goddamn walls - hopefully not, “So, uh… You remember anythin’ you said while you were uh… Sleepwalkin’?”

Sam shook his head no as he looked up at Dean from over the brim of his cup, linking his free arm with his brother’s as he tried urging him out of the coffee shop, “Don’t remember anything I said, why? What  **did**  I say, exactly?”

Dean stood and followed his brother, shaking his head and shrugging, “Uh, nothin’… Most of it didn’t really make sense,” He lied, “An’ you put a spoon in the fridge. It was pretty friggin’ wild, I’ve never seen you sleepwalkin’ before.”

“Everything has meaning whether it makes sense or not,” Sam took another sip as they walked out the front doors, the cool morning air nipping at their skin, “Come on, what’d I say?”

“Just weird thin’s,” Dean shrugged, trying to evade, “Like about dad not carin’, an’ askin’ why the silverware sparkled or somethin’, I’m really not sure, Sam.”

He’d also kissed Dean’s hand and made the older Winchester touch his cheek, and referred to himself as ‘his Sammy’ - those things, just thinking about them, made him kind of nervous. Whatever could be said about sleepwalkers, he was sure those kinds of emotions didn’t stem from nowhere, the feelings about dad had been dead on.

“Oh,” Sam mumbled and leaned more into Dean, frowning a little, continually sipping on the coffee to avoid from saying anything else. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about their dad and how bitter he was towards the older man most of the time. Instead, he forced a chuckle and tried to keep things light, “Sparkly silverware? A little odd, only thing I can think of I’d describe as sparkly is yo-” His eyes widened a little as he caught himself, he took another sip of coffee to keep his mouth busy.

Dean looked down at his brother, raising a brow at the slip up before he supplied: “My eyes, yeah, you said somethin’ like that too. ‘Bright’, I think it was. I wasn’t sure f’you were talkin’ about me, guess you were.” He smirked, polishing off his coffee. He was going to have to talk to Sam about this, soon, he could see it already. But the last thing he was going to do was ask his father about it. John would be pissed, no matter what.

Sam shook his head, “Probably wasn’t about you,” He lied, all but gulping down the last bit of coffee as he felt these odd, electric like tingles shooting through his body, “Plenty of people with bright eyes, stupid adjective, anyway.”

“If you say so,” Dean indulged his brother, for now. If Sam was going to deny it, who was he to put a damper on his brother’s mood. That conversation was probably best kept for another day, hopefully never, if he played his cards right.

Obviously, these feelings were stemming from himself, he had his own emotions to blame for Sam’s unusual interest. He’d always watched shows where people said things like ‘he’s a bad influence on you’, but that had never really made sense to Dean, until now. Sam’s feelings weren’t actually mutual, he was just picking up something from his older brother. It was Dean’s responsibility, as the boy’s brother, to make sure it didn’t get farther than it already was.

* * *

After making it back to the motel, Sam had started peeling his clothes back off, clear down to his boxers before walking over into the tiny kitchen to dispose of his cup. It was like he could feel these throbbing waves of adrenaline shooting through him, making him antsy and causing him to move too quick.

The younger Winchester got a running start and took off towards his bed, hopping up and jumping on it as he chuckled, “I don’t know if coffee was a good idea, De.”

“Probably not,” Dean agreed as he salted the door and took his jacket off, kicking away his boots and flipping on the tv, “Oh well, you’ll be fine before dad comes back, he won’t notice a thin’.” He sat on the bed, grabbing Sam’s wrist and pulling him down into a sitting position, Just don’t break anythin’, or he’ll be pissed.”

Sam chuckled as he twisted his hand and grabbed Dean’s wrist in turn, pulling the older Winchester towards him as he moved to put a fake sleep hold around Dean’s neck, kissing his brother’s temple, “Come on, let’s wrestle.”

Dean sighed and flipped Sam over, pinning him on his stomach with his arm behind his back, “Not likely, kiddo.” Not only was he fucking exhausted and worn, but with everything that was happening between them, he felt that wrestling one another probably wouldn’t be such a good idea.

Sam huffed as he pulled free, scooting to the far side of the bed, eyes now cold and focused on the television, “Fine, whatever.” Most of the time when it was just him and Dean, Sam tried to act more grown up, stowing his attitude and keeping it all boxed up for John - but there were times when it slipped, and he ended up getting snappy with Dean.

The older Winchester sat back again, ignoring Sam’s attitude the best he could as he flicked through channels. He couldn’t get over thinking about that morning, when Sam have been… Unusually open with him. It was a side he’d never seen from his brother, one he didn’t expect, one he wanted - and that was why he had to make sure it was never something he got. Sam had obviously recognized it himself, with the way he’d deflected earlier, which meant he knew it wasn’t normal. Though Dean was adamant about not bringing it up now, he still couldn’t get it out of his head - the feel of his brother’s lips on his skin.

Sam got irritated with the constant flipping and, truth be told, he wasn’t really interested in the television anyway. He laid down, angrily almost, and pulled the covers over his hips as he  put his back towards Dean. There was literally no way he’d be able to fall asleep, not after drinking coffee for the first time - but part of him was hoping that Dean would talk to him or something, he’d even settle for the older Winchester calling him out on his behavior.

Dean looked at his brother and, goddamn he just wanted to hold him more than anything - he was practically fucking aching to hold his brother. Was that such a bad thing to want? He hated Sam being upset with him, and… And he knew Sam felt safe, with Dean’s arms around him, he wanted it; maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, to indulge himself. Normal people hold their brothers and sisters, it’s not completely unusual.

He flicked off the tv and tossed the remote on the nightstand before turning on the bed and pulling his brother into his arms, the back of Sam’s head level with his chest.

Sam kept his hands to himself, tucking his chin to his chest as he frowned, “What’d I do, De? Any other time you’d wrestle with me. You’re upset with me, I can tell.” The younger Winchester sounded timid, afraid that maybe he actually  **did**  do something, maybe something while he was sleep walking.

“I’m not upset with you, baby boy,” Dean assured Sam at once, feeling the pains of his brother’s fear seeping through to himself, the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Sam, to cause any kind of doubt with his brother.

“I’m tired, an’ there’s a lot on my mind, a lot of thin’s happenin, but no, I’m not upset, an’ it’s nothin’ you did wrong. You… You can’t ever do anythin’ wrong, I promise you, you won’t.”

Sam rolled and looked at Dean as he snuggled in closer, tangling their legs together, “What is it then? You can talk to me, same way I know I can talk to you if something’s bothering me.”

Dean looked at his brother, staring over his features and nodding slowly, “You have a feelin’,” He started, touching his brother’s biceps, “An’ you’re not tellin’ me about it, why?” He figured it was best to be honest with Sam, his brother was going through something that he probably understood better than he let on, especially if he felt like he had to keep it from Dean.

Sam swallowed nervously and answered as honestly as he could, voice shaking slightly, “‘Cause I’m not sure I really understand it myself,” He kept still but averted his eyes, afraid to look at his brother, “How can I explain it to you if it doesn’t make sense to me?”

“A lot of thin’s don’t make sense in the world, but normally when you don’t understand somethin’, you ask someone about it,” Dean tried to explain, “Maybe I can help you understand it. Maybe if you talk about it, you might learn more. Keepin’ it to yourself, I mean, that’s your choice. But we’re gonna hafta talk about it, sooner or later.”

“I don’t know,” Sam practically curled in on himself as he let it all pour out, “I just… I have a lot of feelings for you and it confuses me, because I’m not like that with anyone else. And I- I get jealous when I see you with pretty girls, it’s irrational and I know that - but I can’t control it. I like being near you and I like when you pay attention to me, makes me feel good.”

He glanced up at Dean briefly then tucked his chin back down, “I’m not completely stupid, I’m pretty sure I know what it means, but I haven’t said anything because it makes me feel like a freak.”

Dean listened silently to his brother, taking it all in. Sam was overly fucking aware of his own feelings and it twisted something inside of Dean. He’d never been sure of his own feelings either, he felt like Sam did. And… Suddenly he started feeling like… Like maybe it wasn’t just his influence, maybe Sam’s feelings were inevitable. Stopping them would only hurt his brother, and himself, maybe it was best to just be honest, and try and figure this out together, “You’re not a freak,” He said, kissing his brother’s forehead, “I’m glad you told me.”

Sam exhaled deeply and chuckled as he moved in closer, snuggling into Dean’s chest but trying to keep the contact as innocent as possible, “Actually feels pretty good to get it off of my chest and you’re only telling me that ‘cause I’m your brother, I know I’m weird for feeling the way I do, it’s not normal.”

“Maybe not for other people, but it seems pretty normal for us,” Dean said, wrapping his brother up in his arms, “Who needs normal when you can have an equally unusual brother?” And wasn’t that the fucking story of their lives so far? No, it probably wasn’t something they could ever tell John, but they had each other for it.

“What do you mean  _‘equally unusual brother_ ’?” Sam tilted his head back to look up at Dean, brows furrowed quizzically. The statement didn’t really make sense to the younger Winchester. He knew he was pretty messed up because of the feelings he had for his brother, but that was all on him and if anyone seemed like the epitome of normal, it was Dean.

“I mean everythin’ you just said… Could easily’ve been my own feelin’s,” Dean admitted, looking into Sam’s eyes, “I have more feelin’s for you than… Than I know what to do with. It’s confusin’ more often than it’s not, an’ most of the time I feel bad for feelin’ like that, like I’m doin’ somethin’ wrong, like I’m betrayin’ you. Girls I’m with don’t even compare to the feelin’s I have for you, I just mess with ‘em to try an’ staunch this goddamn build up. But I can’t stop feelin’ like this. Just like you said, wantin’ to be near you, wantin’ to hold you, wantin’ you to lookit me like nothin’ else in the world matters. I know why you’re confused, why you feel like a freak, because that’s how I feel.”

Sam’s eyes widened a little and then a big, goofy grin spread across his face as he slung his arm over Dean to hug him, “Guess we can just be freaks together then.”

“Guess so,” Dean responded, wrapping his arms around his brother as he turned his head into Sam’s neck. Whether it was right or wrong, morally, to tell Sam, he wasn’t sure; he was just tired of lying and feeling so guilty, and he didn’t want his brother feeling that way.


End file.
